


And Let The World Turn Without Us

by die_traumerei



Series: The Triple Point [2]
Category: Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Body Worship, Canon Disabled Character, F/M, M/M, Nonbinary Character, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Pregnant Sex, Teasing, nb!bucky barnes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-21
Updated: 2015-10-21
Packaged: 2018-04-27 11:27:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5046757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/die_traumerei/pseuds/die_traumerei
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Porn with feelings. Set in the Strike Gold universe (modern, no-powers AU) in which Steve, Bucky and Peggy are an established triad. Featuring Steve/Bucky and Bucky/Peggy, pretty much just shameless happy sex.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Steve and Bucky

**Author's Note:**

> If you haven't read Strike Gold Along This Shore, you'll probably be fine, although that will help establish a lot going on here -- Bucky being NB, their whole relationship, etc.

Bucky brushed the topcoat onto their toenails and tilted their head, considering the effect. Yeah, matte nail polish was pretty awesome, although their skin was probably a little too pale to really show the copper tone off. They'd probably wind up giving this one to Sam.

They capped the bottle and sat up carefully, swinging their long legs through the window. It was a gorgeous evening, just at the tilting point end-of-summer, and they were listening to Nina Simone while the sun set, and everything was dreamy and perfect.

Toes safely inside, they fetched a hand mirror and some makeup; just their favorites. Eyeshadow they'd 'borrowed' from Peggy, foundation they'd got themselves a few weeks ago, and lipstick and eyeliner, blush and mascara from Steve, who showed up regularly with treats for them. When Bucky protested that it was too much, that they didn't justify this, Steve had just fixed them with a look, and started talking about the awesome small-batch manufacturers he'd found on Etsy.

Bucky knew when to give in. And, maybe. Just maybe. They were worth pretty things. Possibly.

In the soft sunlight, they did their makeup. Hair was already swept up, but they pushed on a wide headband, just to keep the little curly tendrils off their face. Foundation first, just a light powder to even out their skin. They had shaved earlier and were lucky; even dark-haired as they were, they didn't get much of a five o'clock shadow.

First were lips, not quite a Cupid's bow, but brought out in deep crimson. They didn't quite have a lush mouth (not like Peggy), but it was well-shaped enough, and the way their top lip pouted a little – that was nice. A little blush gave them sharper cheekbones and made their face a little finer, less like a perfect square. (Their lovers loved their face, Bucky knew. Honest. And they loved their face most of the time, now. They could almost see it, what made Steve's eyes go soft particularly when Bucky was nonbinary, what excited that protectiveness, that bit of extra care.)

Eyes last; bright blue made brighter with mascara and a perfect catseye, liquid liner they'd spent a day with Sam learning how to apply. Then just a little shadow, a soft brown that didn't stand out, but oh, their eyes _glowed_ like this.

They smiled at themselves in the mirror. They were beautiful like this, the whole _world_ was beautiful like this.

They came back inside fully, though left the window open for the breeze, and put their makeup away carefully, tender with these items of ritual, with the pretty colors and the smooth cases and the things that showed they were loved, that they could change how they looked.

Bucky smiled to themself when they heard the door open; Steve was home early.

The door slammed shut. Steve was home early and _upset_.

“What is it, baby?” they asked coming out of the bedroom.

Steve scowled, shrugging his jacket off, cursing when he missed the hook by the door the first time. “Nothing, sorry.”

“Nothing my ass,” Bucky said, crossing the room. “What's wrong?”

“ _Nothing_ , can you just leave it alone?” Steve snapped.

Bucky raised an eyebrow. “Yes. Do I get to know why you're yelling at me?”

“I'm not yelling!” Steve said, and ran a hand through his hair. “Sorry. I'm...sorry. Look. I need a few...”

“Yeah, you do,” Bucky said dryly, but took pity. “Go punch things in the bedroom, Steve. I'll start dinner.”

“Thanks,” Steve said shortly, and stalked into their bedroom.

Bucky rolled his eyes, and went into the kitchen, as promised. Christ, they missed Peggy. She had been in England for two weeks, and would be gone two weeks more, and they missed her _anyway_ of course, but Peggy was...good with Steve. Could defuse him. _Understood_ him, when he got all pissy. Bucky sympathized, but he usually found Steve very...dramatic. (So did Peggy. But she just laughed, where Bucky got exasperated.)

Bucky took a deep breath, and let it go. Steve would pout, or be sad, or whatever he needed; Bucky could stay calm and happy, the equilibrium they had fought hard for in a skin that wasn't quite right for them.

They started chopping potatoes, deciding to roast them with some onions and peppers, and fry a piece of salmon to go alongside. That would do well for supper.

They had the oven preheated and the vegetables just put in when Steve reemerged, standing in the doorway. “Hey,” he said softly. “Sorry.”

“Thank you.” Bucky went over and kissed Steve's cheek. “Please don't take your mood out on me?”

“I'm sorry,” Steve repeated, and he rested his head on Bucky's shoulder, and, predictably, Bucky melted.

“ What is it, love?” they asked, cuddling Steve close for a moment.

“Stupid shit,” Steve mumbled. “All of it dumb as fuck.”

“Maybe. But it's got you pretty upset.”

Steve heaved a sigh, and Bucky rolled his eyes – affectionately, but still. Good grief.

“Sorry. I think I'm having a low couple of days,” Steve said, pulling away so he could meet Bucky's eyes. “Everything feels...pointless.” He rubbed the back of his neck, and dropped his eyes. “I miss Peggy. You know I love you,” he rushed to add. “I'm not unhappy with you at all, Bucky, I swear. I just...”

“I miss our wife too,” Bucky said, smiling and pulling Steve in for a tiny kiss. “Okay, there's that. There's you being depressed. Have you taken your meds today?”

“Uh huh.” Steve shrugged, and dropped into a kitchen chair. “I dunno. I had two cancellations at work, and the rest of the week is pretty sparse. I know it's just summer, people cancel  _ all the time _ around now, but...”

“But it'll pick up in autumn, it always does,” Bucky reminded him, sitting down across the table. “You've already made rent this month, Steve, and I've got more than enough work to cover the household costs. We'll get through August just fine, and you've got two conventions in September, that'll bring in plenty of cash.”

Steve scowled. “And what if it doesn't?”

“We'll be very happy together in our cardboard box,” Bucky said dryly, and returned Steve's unimpressed look. “Steven. We can all survive on my income if we have to. What. Is. Bothering. You?”

“ Nothing! Everything. I don't know.” Steve groaned. “I don't  _ know _ . I just...I'm sorry. You don't need all of this.” He scrubbed at his eyes, and smiled at Bucky. “I'm sorry, Bucky,” he said, more gently this time. “You're right, I shouldn't take this out on you.”

“No, you shouldn't. But you can share it with me,” Bucky said, standing up and going over to check the oven. “I'd rather you did, actually.”

“Sure about that?” Steve said morosely.

“ _ Yes _ . Good grief, Steve, there's a middle ground between throwing a fit and being completely determined to not bleed on anyone else,” Bucky said, turning and leaning on the stove, crossing their arms. “I love you. I'm here for you. Marriage implies that, you know?”

Steve's face softened. “I know. I...know,” he repeated slowly. “I do. I'm sorry.”

“Good,” Bucky said, and  smiled at him. “It's okay. I'm not used to it either.”

“Any regrets?”

“Not a one.” Steve's lightness of tone didn't fool Bucky for one moment. “C'mere,” they said, and held out their arms, and Steve hesitated, but only for a moment. “No regrets at all,” Bucky repeated, stroking the short, soft hair on the back of Steve's head. “ Oh, honey. You've a shit day is all, haven't you?”

“Plenty of people have had worse days,” Steve said, and Bucky contemplated murder. Just for a moment, but still.

After an awkward silence, Steve offered, “If you need to smother me in my sleep, Peggy will understand.”

Bucky laughed, and slipped their hand under Steve's t-shirt, rubbing his back. “She'd fuckin' applaud me, and no jury would convict.” They leaned back and kissed Steve. “Go get a bath, love. Dinner'll be ready when you get out, and then we'll do something nice, okay?”

Steve nodded, and leaned his forehead against Bucky's. “You're really beautiful, by the way. I should've told you that earlier.”

Bucky flushed. “Thanks. It's just...I just had some time to kill.”

“And you used it well, sweetheart.” A kiss. “You look gorgeous, really Bucky.” Another kiss. “'m so lucky.” Another. “How badly do you want dinner?”

Bucky laughed and swatted Steve's ass. “I'm  _ hungry _ . And you need to eat. I'll still be pretty after dinner.”

Steve grinned, and kissed Bucky again. “Put on more lipstick. I like it when I've gotta wash the marks off my dick.”

“Jesus God, Rogers,” Bucky groaned. “Romance is dead.”

“What? It's  _ true. _ ” Steve laughed, and stole one final, sweet kiss. “See? I'm already less of an asshole.”

“Says you,” Bucky said, but their final swat was more of a grope. And they wondered how quickly they could eat dinner, really.

 

The answer was very, and also that dishes could wait when Steve reemerged with his skin still warm and soft from the bath, wearing just boxers and an old t-shirt of Bucky's that was oversized enough to fit him (just). He came up behind Bucky at the stove, pressing kisses to their neck and nibbling a little at their ear.

“Well hello, you,” Bucky said, and poked Steve when they got no reply. “Christ, put your hearing aid back in.”

“No,” Steve said, and stuck his tongue in Bucky's ear. “Don't wanna.”

“Steve, I know which side you're deaf on,” Bucky said, purposely turning so his mouth was by Steve's good ear. “You can't pretend to just not hear what I'm saying.”

“Can too,” Steve said cheerfully. “It's like practice for being old.”

“I am going to remove my arm and beat you to death with it,” Bucky threatened, but then the salmon was done, and they were both hungry as only young men can be, and also. After dinner.

Steve volunteered to put the leftovers away, and Bucky took the time to draw the curtains in their bedroom, filtering the evening light in through the curtains. And put on more lipstick.

They were just touching up their lower lip when Steve came in, and smiled at them in the mirror, hands resting on Bucky's hips. They were wearing shorts, fitted just tight enough to be feminine, and a soft grey tank top.

“Beautiful,” Steve murmured into their shoulder, in between little kisses.

“Ain't too bad yourself,” Bucky mumbled, dabbing the finishing touches. That he had to lean over a little more, thereby pushing his ass into Steve's crotch, was shamelessly intentional.

Steve made a happy noise, and rolled his hips against Bucky, one hand coming around to rest on Bucky's stomach. No lower, but big and warm and reassuring, and Bucky gave a little moan, pushing their ass out a little more.

Steve swore softly, and pulled Bucky upright and into a hard, messy kiss, his hips pressed tight against Bucky's ass, cock swelling.

Bucky groaned, their arms coming up, reaching behind them for Steve's shoulders. “Would you believe I was gonna be nice and romantic?” they asked, in between long kisses, their tongues busy, demanding, both of them hungry for touch.

“C'n be romantic afterwards,” Steve grunted. “Fuck. Fuck, I want you, you're so beautiful baby, I _want_ you.”

“So take me,” Bucky demanded, grinding their ass back, oh, fuck, they _ached_. Steve thought they were beautiful, and they looked over their shoulder, lowered their eyelids, gazed up through dark lashes, and bit their lip. “Please,” they asked, low and sweet. “Please, Stevie.”

Steve swore. Creatively. And fumbled at Bucky's shorts, unbuttoning and unzipping them, careful to keep his touch light. Bucky was hard, but...better not to think about what was between their legs right now, not when otherwise they felt sweet and beautiful and in-between, and Steve remembering that, remembering not to touch him there, nearly brought tears to their eyes, emotion they pushed into a kiss, long and hot, sucking just very lightly on Steve's tongue, his mouth, promising. If not later that night, then soon.

Steve made a rough noise, shoving down Bucky's shorts and underwear and pulling off their top, hands caressing their chest and belly. Bucky moaned, playing it up for Steve, but they weren't pretending when they spread their legs, leaning over the little vanity they shared with Peggy. “Now, here?” they begged. “Steve, Stevie, _now_.”

“God, the way you look...” Steve fumbled on the nearby dresser, found a bottle of slick, and covered his hand, working a finger quickly into Bucky.

Oh, that burn, oh, that was good, and Bucky moaned, spreading their legs a little more, pushing back, no, no, I can take it, just get _in_ me, they might have said. Maybe. Steve, who usually took actual geological ages to make sure that Bucky was ready and happy and relaxed, for once in his life did what Bucky _wanted,_ which was to slip on a condom (because Christ, life was easier that way) and line himself up, and push in.

Bucky made sure Steve knew his speed was appreciated, and they looked over their shoulder, pretty sure that their face was a mess, that they were probably ridiculous, sprawled over the vanity, absolutely certain that the look on Steve's face was the hottest thing he'd seen in ages.

“Fuck. Fuck me,” Steve muttered, and leaned over for another searing kiss. “God. You're just...you're fucking perfect, Bucky. You're beautiful and hot and oh, oh Christ.” He groaned when Bucky ground back against him. “You're so...” he trailed off in a moan, hips rolling.

“Fuck me,” Bucky said. Begged, really. “Hard, Stevie, like this, wanna feel you, God, yes, like that,” they encouraged when Steve pulled back a little, thrust, and Bucky was full enough, Steve was _big_. And then Steve changed the angle and Bucky _screamed_ and couldn't do anything but let it build, Steve's big hands on his hips, Steve hitting the electric spot inside of them over and over and _over_ until it was too much, and white-hot ran through their body, left them shaking and spent, Steve still inside of them.

Steve was still rolling his hips, and oh, oh this felt good, warm and yes, come, Stevie. Bucky moaned a little, encouraging when Steve's hips jerked, when he cried out, raw and rough, and then rested.

Bucky reckoned they could go a few months without moving. At a minimum. Just rest here, sweat cooling, Steve draped over them. Hell, it might take a few months to feel their legs again.

They made a little protesting sound when Steve pulled out, then sighed, gathered up in his arms. Steve was so warm and strong and good.

“Beautiful,” Steve murmured, and they kissed, soft and easy now as Steve carried them over to the bed and laid them down, cuddling close.

“Y'r still dressed,” Bucky mumbled, tugging at Steve's t-shirt. “Stoppit.”

He laughed, and obligingly stripped, the two of them twining together, legs tangled, bellies pressed together, and always those same long, slow kisses as Bucky came back to their body.

Steve smiled, and tugged their headband off, letting little tendrils fall around their face. “Hey, beautiful.”

“Hey,” Bucky said, and rested their head on Steve's shoulder. “Wow. That was fucking awesome.”

Steve laughed, and kissed their forehead. “Uh huh. Think I needed that. Thanks, baby.”

“Yeah, it was a real hardship for me.” Bucky pressed a kiss to Steve's shoulder. “I love you.”

“Love you too, Buck.” Steve smiled, and kissed the tip of their nose. “I'm sorry I'm a pain sometimes.”

“Steve, no one expects you to be perfect. I _love_ you. Even when you're in a mood.” Bucky pushed up to lie on one elbow, tracing the lines of Steve's face with their free hand. “Your problems are my problems now, you know.”

“I know. And vice-versa.” Steve smiled shyly. “I owe you better, Bucky. No, stop, I do,” he said, fingertips resting on Bucky's mouth, quieting a protest. “I trust Peggy, and I trust you just as much. I need to show that more.”

Bucky nodded, and lay down again. They ought to take their arm off, clean the make-up off their face, but...well, they'd probably not fall asleep soon. Probably. “It's a lot for you to get used to still, I guess,” they offered.

“Yeah. But you still deserve better,” Steve said, wrapping his arms around Bucky and pulling them a little closer. “I'm sorry. I'll try harder to...to share with you. Not just take it out on you, or hide it away.”

“I appreciate that,” Bucky said, and smiled when Steve kissed the corners of their eyes. “Mmm. Afterglow cuddles.”

Steve laughed, and kissed them again. “Of course. The best part.” A few more kisses, sweet and teasing and light. “You should get ready for bed.”

Bucky groaned. “Ugh. I should.” They didn't move.

“May I?” Steve asked softly, stroking his hand down Bucky's face. “I'll wipe you down, clean the make-up off. Take your arm off, if you want. Let me take care of you, Bucky?”

Bucky smiled shyly. “If you don't mind. I just...yeah.” They laughed. “I'm just lazy.”

“Well, you damn well deserve it, between dinner and being so completely fuckable,” Steve said, sitting up. “It would be my honor. Seriously.”

“Then yes. You know what...I mean, you know how my arm works and all,” Bucky said, curling up a little in the middle of the bed. Steve had been nice to hold. And, if they were honest, Steve engaging in a little body-worship could be overwhelming. In a good way, but still.

Steve nodded, and leaned over for a little kiss, just to tide them over. “Be right back, sweet.” He covered Bucky with a light quilt against the cool of the evening, and Bucky dozed a little, only waking up when Steve came back. They rolled onto their back, a little shyly, but sighed when Steve started wiping them down with a warm washcloth. Not as good as a bath, really, but better than nothing.

Steve hesitated when he got to Bucky's belly, though. “Hey love,” he said gently. “You want to do this? I don't want to touch you if it'll be bad for you.”

Bucky smiled, and ran their fingertips down Steve's arm. “Remember how we talked about trusting each other earlier?”

“Yeah,” Steve said softly.

“I _trust_ you. It'll just...yeah. I trust you to do what's right,” Bucky said, their voice wavering, just a little bit.

Steve leaned over and kissed them deeply, distracting from the quick, clinical wipe-down between Bucky's legs. He laid soft little kisses all over Bucky's face until they were smiling and sleepy-eyed. “You know I love your body, right? Like, just flat-out...fuck. I can't believe you let me touch you, hold you. Can't believe I have so much beauty right in my bed.”

Bucky giggled, and ran a fingertip down Steve's arm. “I know the feeling a little.”

“If you feel even half of what I do...” Steve kissed them again, then pressed kisses to their collarbone, the soft wings of bone just under their skin. “My Bucky.” More kisses, one to each shoulder. Kissing their fingertips, first one hand, then the other. A little raspberry on their belly, which made Bucky laugh and wiggle a little.

Steve grinned up at them, wiping their legs down now, gentle with the scar that was still thick. He kissed the points of Bucky's hips, then their knees. “I love you. I love all of you. I love that you're all genders, darling. I love your beautiful body, because you live in it.”

Bucky sucked in a breath, but didn't stop Steve.

“I love how you trust me. How you trusted me from the beginning, let me mark you.” A little tap on the star on their hip. “I love that you asked me to marry you.” Kisses on their calves, nuzzling the soft skin there, and Bucky wished for a moment that they'd shaved, but Steve wasn't exactly complaining, laying a kiss on a bruise from where Bucky had walked into a table the other day. “Christ, I can't tell you how much it turns me on, the way you live so unashamed. The way you are yourself.”

Bucky made a soft, low noise at that. Not a protest, not an encouragement just...acknowledging. And a happy sigh when Steve cleaned their feet, a giggle when he kissed each of Bucky's big toes.

“Good?” Steve asked, and Bucky nodded hard. “Good. I'll get your arm next, okay love?”

Bucky nodded again, and let Steve hold them up so he could reach all the straps, gently unsnapping them. “Ready?” Steve asked, and Bucky nodded against his shoulder, and sighed when Steve eased the arm off.

He wiped Bucky's shoulder down, checking minutely for marks or bruises or anything at all, and was satisfied to find the skin smooth and untouched. Bucky smiled down as Steve kissed the long scar on their shoulder, nuzzling the skin there for a moment before he went to set Bucky's arm on the charging station and return the washcloth and bowl of water to the bathroom.

Steve came back with a little package of wipes, the ones that smelled like lavender, and sat down next to Bucky, leaning over for a little kiss. “Ready, beautiful?”

Bucky hesitated, and nodded. Steve loved them with and without makeup, and taking it off...it wouldn't change them, not really. It was bedtime, and they hated waking up with caked-on last-night's-mascara.

Steve smiled, caressing their face. “You're still enby without it, beautiful. I don't ever see you as male when you feel enby, did I ever tell you that? I really don't. You're like...you're my Bucky, no matter what, but it's easy to get pronouns right, and think of you as in-between. You're always my precious, but I swear, you're just a little bit more special to me, times like this. Thank you for letting me take care of you.”

Bucky swallowed hard. “Like it's difficult.”

Steve kissed their forehead. “Close your eyes, darling, so I can get them first.” And those artist's hands, light as anything cleaning Bucky's eyes, their lips, running a fresh wipe over their face to make sure the last of the makeup was gone. And a little kiss on each eyelid, so they knew when it was over.

“Fuckin' gorgeous, what did I say?” Steve teased, and set everything aside so he could lie down and pull Bucky close. “Okay. What d'you say to staying like this for a few days? A week, at the outside.”

Bucky laughed and rested their head on Steve's chest, sighing when they heard the soft rhythm of his heart. “Yes, please. Thank you, Steve. For everything.”

Steve didn't say anything, though, just loosed Bucky's hair from the tie, and ran his fingers through the long, dark strands until Bucky fell asleep.


	2. Peggy and Bucky

“Hey, honey.” Bucky stretched out beside Peggy, leaning over to kiss her cheek. “Everything okay?”

“Yes. No.” She gave him a look of mute desperation. “I don't know.”

“C'mere, then, and we'll see what we can do,” Bucky said, and she crawled into his arms, hiding her face in his chest. Peggy in bed in the middle of the afternoon was odd enough. Peggy making herself tiny and close – yeah. Something was definitely not okay.

“Oh, beauty.” Bucky started rubbing her back, just running his hand down slow and easy, from the nape of her neck to the small of her back, then starting over again. “My beauty, what can I do?”

Peggy made an unhappy noise.

“I'm not stopping 'til you give me an idea,” he informed her, and she giggled a little.

“It's dumb.”

“You put up with plenty of dumb from me and Steve,” Bucky pointed out, and thought she might have smiled. “Peggy-love, it's okay. Whatever it is, it's okay.”

She made a grumbly noise. “Stupid fucking hormones.”

“They are,” Bucky agreed, and goosed her, surprising her into a real laugh. “Hah. What are the stupid fucking hormones telling you?”

“That my body is changing and I can't do anything about it,” she blurted out, and rolled away from him onto her back. “ _Look_.”

Peggy pulled down the top of her skirt, and pulled her shirt up and, indeed, Bucky could see the beginnings of a belly, not just the soft roundness she'd always had there, but the real beginnings of pregnancy.

He blinked away tears, and reminded himself that they had all agreed to stagger their meltdowns. He could cry later about how she was carrying their baby, _theirs_ , and how that was the most beautiful thing ever.

“I see,” he said softly, and rested his hand on her belly, curving it to fit. “Scary?”

“Mmmm. Frustrating,” she said, as Bucky started moving just his thumb, caressing the soft skin. “And scary,” she admitted in a very small voice.

“Yeah, it is,” Bucky said quietly. “I'm scared for you, love. Scared something will go wrong, scared this will be too hard on you...lots of things,” he admitted, his hand stilling on her stomach. “You're gonna be beautiful to me no matter what, though.”

“I _know_ ,” she said, and gave him a nudge. “Is it bad I'm glad you're scared too?”

“Nope. It means we're all in this together,” he said, and leaned over to kiss her. “Forever.”

She gave a shaky sigh. “Promise?”

“Promise. Even if this baby comes out blond and blue-eyed and looking exactly like Steve, they'll be my son or daughter,” Bucky said seriously. “They're about the size of a tadpole, and I already love them to the ends of the earth.”

Peggy smiled, and turned her head for another kiss. “I know. The way you love, Bucky...there's no doubting you.”

Bucky kissed her again for good measure. “Good. Better, darling?”

“Little bit,” she said, and closed her eyes tight. “Just...love me? For a bit? I know you're busy, I should be working too, but--”

“But we can take an hour to make sure you feel better,” Bucky interrupted. “Work will keep for both of us.” He rubbed her belly, then slipped his hand under the waistband of her skirt, resting his fingers on her panties. “Yes?”

“Oh, _yes_ ,” she sighed, pushing a little into his hand. “Yes, yes.”

Bucky huffed a little laugh and slid his hand lower, fingering her through the soft lace. “Should've known this would cheer you up,” he teased, and moaned when she spread her legs, skirt hiking up and the fabric of her underwear already damp.

“Smartarse,” she groaned, and yelped a little when he moved his hand – under her knickers this time, but no further than the rough patch of hair, massaging tiny circles with his hand. “Goddammit, Barnes.”

“Yes?” he asked sweetly, and laughed when she glared at him. “Patience, my Peg. It's possible to draw this stuff out.”

“But why?” she whined, trying to rub harder against his hand. “It's only fun when it's you begging.”

Bucky laughed harder, actually had to pause until the fit of giggles passed. “What's good for the goose...”

“Fuck off and make me come,” she said, and moaned when Bucky slipped his fingers lower, just barely massaging her clit. “Better.”

“Uh huh,” Bucky said, and started to kiss down her throat, “It'll be worth it, Peggy. God, you're perfect,” he murmured into the soft skin of her chest. “Fuck.” His hand slipped down a little further, still rubbing only very lightly. Bucky managed to get his knees under him without interrupting his rhythm, so he could push up to kneel, reaching under her shirt with his left hand and rucking the soft fabric up, cupping her breast in one hand.

“I can take it off,” she informed him, but her voice stuttered when he curved just the very tips of his fingers into her, dipping briefly.

“More fun this way,” he murmured against her skin. “C'n get naked later, _will_ get naked later, fuck, fuck, Peggy,” he whispered, kissing between her breasts, nuzzling the cleavage her bra made. “God, you're perfect, you're so perfect.”

Peggy ran her fingers through his hair, newly cut short, and marveled at the soft waves, at the way his words went right to her center. Bucky was kissing her breasts, suckling through the soft lace of her bra, and it was filthy and perfect. This was not old-lady-mum sex, this was sex with her husband who was gorgeous and really, deeply, sincerely wanted to make her insane with wanting.

She moaned again, just to encourage, and tilted her hips up, trying to get his fingers to go in a little deeper. They did – briefly – then Bucky returned to teasing her, rubbing her clit a little too lightly, but worshipping her breasts with mouth and hand.

She wasn't sure how long it went on, just that she started to beg at one point. Loudly. And that at another point he sat up and rummaged around in one of the bedside drawers. She though, bizarrely, that he was looking for condom for some truly unknown reason, but he emerged with a small vibrator and a wicked grin, and Peggy howled when he rested the soft edge against her clit and turned it on.

Bucky kissed her through the sudden orgasm, gentling her down, but their afternoon was clearly not done with yet – especially not after the noise he made when she became self-aware enough to rub her hand across the front of his jeans.

“You want something?” she asked sweetly, and laughed out loud at the look he gave her. “C'mon, I wanna try something. Lie on your back.”

“You're thinking too clearly,” Bucky mumbled, but did as she asked. “I'm not doin' my job.”

“Trust me, you're doing just fine,” she assured him, and undid his jeans, freeing his cock through the slit in his boxers. “Oh, yes,” she sighed, and stripped her t-shirt off. She straddled his legs and leaned over so that his cock nestled between her breasts. It looked and felt ridiculous, but she looked up in time to see Bucky's eyes roll into his head.

“Nice,” she approved, and started rocking her body but, no, not quite right...better to slip her bra off and move her shoulders so that she could squeeze her breasts around his cock.

“Oh, God,” Bucky moaned, and rolled his hips and...okay, that was _obscene,_ the way his cock slid across her skin, the way the wetness on the tip started to spread. And definitely the way his hips jerked and he moaned.

“Oh, yes,” she breathed, and bent her neck so that she could, just barely, reach her tongue out and lap at the head of his cock.

“Fuck. Fuck. Peggy, I'm gonna....”

“No you're not,” she said firmly. “Not just yet.” She kissed his belly and sat up, hiking her skirt up all the way and shoving her knickers to one side before quickly sinking down on his cock.

Bucky wailed, one hand coming up to wrap around her thigh, _hard_ , and she gave an experimental rock, just to see what he would do.

“Please, God, please, fuck, yes...” Apparently what he would do was beg, and God, it was sweet, watching her Bucky writhe and plead.

And turn on the vibrator he must have palmed at some point, and press it to her clit so that her hips snapped and she wailed, surprised and so turned on it almost hurt.

“Fuck you,” she gasped, catching herself as she slumped forward, and cried out again when he began circling her clit without actually touching it. “You asshole.”

“Your asshole,” he reminded her, and groaned when she _squeezed._ “God, you're fucking incredible.”

“You're a fucking tease,” she informed him, trying to wiggle so the vibrator pressed where she wanted it. “Christ, Bucky, please, please...”

He only teased her a little bit longer, pulling her down for a kiss, shifting the vibrator so it was exactly where she wanted it, rocking their bodies together as she came – again – and he followed soon after, his body pressing up into hers.

They slipped apart, sweaty and sticky and ridiculous in the late afternoon sun, and Peggy rolled most of the way off of Bucky to curl into his side, sighing happily when he wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

“I really love working from home,” he mumbled, tucking his cock back into his boxers and zipping up his jeans. “God damn.”

Peggy giggled and nodded. “Mmm. Nap for a little bit?”

“Think we can justify that, yeah,” he agreed, and tucked her head under his chin. “Feeling better, my Peggy?”

“Mmm _hmm_. Thank you.”

“Yeah, it was a totally selfless act on my part,” he teased, wrapping his arms more firmly around her.

“Uh huh,” she mumbled, and fell asleep right there, letting the calm and the peace inside her head pull her down. Bucky was there, and Steve would be back from his convention in a few days, and it would be okay. Not all of the time, but in the end – it would be okay.

 

**Author's Note:**

> You cannot possibly tell that Bucky is my precious flower and my favorite, can you.
> 
> As ever, I'm on Tumblr as dietraumerei.tumblr.com


End file.
